IF YOU'RE NOT WEIRD, YOU'RE WEIRD: An age sweeter than 16

Life’s milestones gave birth to Hallmark cards while “The Scarlet Letter” was the inspiration behind letterman jackets. One milestone I have been through countless of times is being engaged. The engagement lasts around an hour, until I have licked the ring pop to its core and have no use for it anymore. Graduation is a milestone, and at San Diego State, graduating in four years is as impressive as becoming a vice-presidential nominee when only having a small amount of experience.

Today marks a milestone in my life other than the birth of my Nano Baby and closed adoption after discovering the more entertaining virtual world of Tamagotchis. Today, I am officially 21 years old, and by the time you read this I will have already had a shot when I woke up because I hope to avoid getting the flu during finals. The liver is as fond of 21st birthdays as McDonalds is of the documentary “Super Size Me.”

The weekend of my birthday will be spent in Las Vegas, which is as unique as saying, “I’m a Beatles fan.” In Sin City, finding another person celebrating their 21st birthday is as easy as finding Mexican food in San Diego. While I’m in Vegas, I will be seeing “The Phantom of the Opera,” and for my birthday wish I want to shadow a madam for a day.
Besides Vegas, I look forward to many nights of busting out my best moves on the dance floor. I intend to find a crew and start dance battles. I admit I may have watched “Step Up 2: The Streets” as many times as SNL’s “A Special Christmas Box” has been viewed on YouTube, but I’m not completely devoid of rhythm. After all, Wesley Snipes’ character assumed white men couldn’t jump, but then he went to a House of Pain concert.

After today, I can finally purchase my friend’s little cousins drinks. I pick up my paycheck today and I’ll be able to go buy them the Yoo-Hoo they requested the last time I baby-sat. Fake ID card connoisseurs dread 21st birthdays, but love pregnancy. Every birth is a miracle, but more importantly, it’s a possible new customer for the fake ID card business.

Another benefit of my aging is music and jazz clubs. I don’t smoke, but I purchased an antique lighter with a saxophone player on it. I will be carrying the lighter to every bar or nightclub I go to in the hopes of being asked, “Do you have a light?” Even with the Truth commercials impaling my chances of using my lighter, I guess people’s lungs are more important than my needs.

Today’s column may be my last. After shadowing a madam during the weekend, I may not come back to San Diego. If I don’t return, it’s been a pleasure.

—Sarah Atallah is an English senior.

—This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of The Daily Aztec.

Be the first to comment on this article!

Add comment


I am not posting spam. I understand posting spam or other comments that are unrelated to this article will cause my comment to be flagged for deletion and possibly cause my IP address to be permanently banned from this server.

Enter the characters in the image above:

log out